Undefined
by atrfla
Summary: When Ziva begs Gibbs to let her half-niece join the team, Gibbs puts the niece on probation for their newest case- a dead girl from a Marine family who was killed in a very bloody way. But although Bellatrix is amazing in every way, nothing can change her parentage and everyone except Ziva is slightly or really wary of her. Can Bella prove that she isn't just her father's daughter?
1. Chapter 1

**The reason that there has been an outburst of NCIS stories from me is because I forgot how obsessed I was with NCIS. Particularly Abby and Ziva- they're awesome. ****J**

"Gibbs." Ziva crossed the room quickly and stood in front of Gibbs. "Gibbs, we need to talk."

Gibbs raised an eyebrow. The only person who ever talked to him that way was Abby. "Make it quick."

Ziva started to talk really fast. "Okay so I know that you don't like outsiders and you know my half brother Ari and what you don't know is that he was married to an American lady named Cloey and-"

"Get to the point," Gibbs cut in.

"Sorry- anyway, Ari has a daughter and I want her on the team."

Silence reigned, until McGee looked up with wide eyes. "Did you just say that you want an assassin who killed one of our agents's _daughter_ on the team?"

"Yes I did!" said Ziva, holding her head high.

"What's she like?" asked McGee softly.

"She's us. In miniature," answered Ziva quietly. Her voice rose as she continued, "She's intelligent and she's strong and she got permission from the American government _and _the Director to join the team! She is nothing like Ari or her mother, in looks or personality- she is kind of like me. The pot and the black kettle. She loves forensics and since she is kind of Goth and wears pigtails so I think Abby'll like her."

DiNozzo snickered. "_Pot and the black kettle_," he repeated snarkily.

"She's very good at fighting. She likes woodworking and she's a natural leader. She's really smart, she's very careful, she even likes computers!" yelled Ziva, annoyed that everyone was doubting someone who would quite obviously be a good addition to the team.

"Wow," McGee breathed. "You just described all of us."

"Ah, stop, McGeek," DiNozzo snorted, turning back to his computer. McGee leaned over and noticed that on it was a computer game, of all things. McGee narrowed his eyes at DiNozzo, who snorted and gave him a cheeky smile.

"She just can't be in the morgue," Ziva continued. "She doesn't like morgues. So helping Ducky and James is out of the question."

"Two questions: where is she?" Gibbs asked.

"Waiting for me to call her."

"And who's her legal guardian?"

"Me," answered Ziva.

"Get her in here," Gibbs ordered.

Ziva turned and yelled "Bella!"

A teenage girl who had been sitting by the wall near the elevator stood up and looked at Ziva, who made a 'come here' motion. The girl ran over, her legs pumping, and skidded to a stop before her aunt, pocketing her slim phone. "Yes, Aunt Ziva?"

Gibbs looked her up and down. Cutting off Ziva, who was opening her mouth to speak, he stared her down with a cool gaze. "You can fight."

"Yes, sir."

"You can run."

"Yes, sir."

"You are brave? You enjoy working with computers? You like forensics?"

"Triple yes, sir. At least, I think I'm brave."

"Your name is Bella Davis?"

"Bellatrix Haswari, sir. People call me Bell, Bells, Bella, Trix, or Haswari. Sir."

DiNozzo snickered. "Like the Harry Potter witch?" This earned him a head-slap from McGee (although that was mainly for playing a computer game during work again) and a really hard punch on the arm from Ziva. And a death glare from Bellatrix, who replied:

"It means brave warrior. What does Anthony mean? Snarky senior agent?"

McGee bit his lip to keep from laughing although the joke wasn't that funny. It wasn't often that someone had more snarkiness and sassiness than DiNozzo, and it was always fun to watch DiNozzo face off with that person.

"So, Haswari- we got a call a few minutes ago," Gibbs said. "Seems that a retired Marine who died a few months ago has a daughter who was a Marine. Until her death, which we received notice of about five minutes ago. You're going to accompany us on this mission. At the end of this mission, if or when we catch the killer, I think you're a good fit for the team, I'll let you on permanently." He snapped his fingers at DiNozzo. "Stop playing that computer game. I will have McGee remove both it and your head if I catch you playing it again. Let's go."


	2. Chapter 2

**The reason that there has been an outburst of NCIS stories from me is because I forgot how obsessed I was with NCIS. Particularly Abby and Ziva- they're awesome. ****J**

**Okay! Bellatrix POV. Thanks to Pauley Perrette and Cote de Pablo for inspiring the story, even though I know they'll never read it…**

I look down at the body of the twenty-two-year-old woman. She's dead, obviously. The fact that her face is separated from the rest of her head helps me in realizing that. And the fact that it's hard to walk around without getting Marie Jackson's blood on your shoes.

"Her father was Lieutenant Johnny Jackson," Aunt Ziva murmurs, tapping on her tablet. "And poor girl."

"Her face has been sawed off," notes Agent DiNozzo, always one with words.

"Actually," Ducky says, clopping into the room. "Knifed off. I found the murder weapon in the other room." He holds, in his gloved hands, a bag with a small serrated knife in it. Really, the blade can't be three inches long. It's also coated in a still-wet layer of blood. "We should bring it back to Abby."

"Can I see it?" I ask cautiously. Gibbs looks over the body at me, then nods to Ducky. "Let her see it."

Ducky hands over the bag. I put on new gloves and took it, examining the knife. "Hmm. It's a very small knife, but very sharp. See the cuts on the blade? That means it's been sharpened recently. On a block of stone. No other thing would leave marks like that. Also, the blood's still wet, which means the crime must have happened in the past hour or so. But the best thing-" I show the bag triumphantly to Aunt Ziva- "-is the bloody partial print on the bottom of the handle."

* * *

Abby turns the knife over, murmuring. "You saw this all by yourself? Before a trained team of professionals?" she asks me.

"Heck, yeah!" I answer. "Aunt Ziva's always telling me I have a sharp eye."

"This is a really small partial print," Abby says to herself. "Looks like a thumbprint. Who in their right mind puts their thumb at the base of a knife? I think the killer must be left-handed." She scans the fingerprint as I watch, taking it all in, remembering the joy of being in a forensic lab.

"I'll run a search," I offer.

Abby declines. "I can do it. You haven't really learned how to use most of the equipment yet-"

"I know how."

She raises her eyebrows. "Okay. Walk me through it, like I'm a beginner."

"Press that button." I point at the button in question and walk Abby through setting up a DNA scan and fingerprint search. When we're done, I fold my arms and looked at Abby. "Well?"

She nods, smiling. "Okay, you _do_ know your stuff. How old are you?"

"Old enough."

"No, really, how old are you?"

I sigh and roll my eyes. "Ugh. Almost sixteen."

She looks impressed. "And you know how to run a DNA scan?"

I shrug. "My father taught me how to think like a criminal and my mother was a forensic scientist."

Abby looks at me as if seeing me for the first time. "That's right, you have to have a mother. I know your father's- well- _dead_, but where's your mom?"

I lower my eyes. "I don't want to talk about it."

"No, if she's a forensic scientist, I'd really like to meet her-"

My temper flares. "I _said,_ I don't want to TALK about it!"

Abby quiets, and the scan bings. I look at it. "Sssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssh*t." Abby peers at the scan too.

_DNA Match. Marie Jackson._

"Well, that didn't help," I say, picking up the knife in its bag again and turning it from side to side. The handle is carved in a beautiful pattern of geometric shapes and cuts off abruptly at the edge. _It's one of a pair_. There's no more blood- it must have been cleaned off but the criminal left enough blood so it would appear that he or she hadn't wiped the knife down. Just to check, I open the bag slightly and sniff. Besides the musty smell of blood, I detect the slightest smell of chemicals. _Aha!_ As I open my mouth to relay all of this new information to Abby, I hear a whisper and can't help but shiver.

"Did she die?"

I don't like bringing up my mother, but Abby seems nice and sincere if not slightly- okay, _really_- pushy. I decide to humor her. "Yes."

"How?"

"Blown to bits in a bomb." I don't want to tell her _who _set the bomb, because if I do, she will surely know how much my father hated us both.


	3. Chapter 3

**Review please! And I'm sorry I was away from Fanfiction for so long- schoolwork. Can't blame me for that.**

Abby runs a scan on the knife handle, acting very subdued, and confirms that the chemical I smelled is rubbing alcohol. She also finds very small traces of blood mixed among the chemicals, confirming my suspicion that the knife was cleaned after Marie Jackson was killed. After a call to Gibbs, who's still searching the crime scene, we discover that DiNozzo found a small bottle of rubbing alcohol, about half full, in the bathroom trash can a few minutes after Agent McGee, Abby and I left for HQ.

"Nothing really helped, then," Abby says as she rests her chin in her palms, her elbows on the table. "At least, nothing that we've gotten so far. I'm still running the search on that partial print, though. Maybe it'll turn up. Why don't you run up to Agent McGee and report our findings?"

"Can't you just call him?" I point out.

"Well, yeah, but we tend to go in person-"

"Fine," I interrupt before Abby can give me another lame excuse for wanting peace and quiet. I turn and stalk out of the room, head high.

* * *

"All of that work turned out to be nothing useful," McGee sighs, leaning back in his chair. "Well, I'm running searches on all of the information we have on Marie Jackson- fiscal credits, known relationships, the works. I also set up a scan to see if we can identify where Marie Jackson was just before she died."

"How do you do that?" I ask, curious.

McGee brightens, excited to have a topic that he's actually knowledgeable on to speak about. "First I track her credits, see if she bought any tickets anywhere in the past few months that departed in the past few weeks. She hadn't- no train rides, and the last plane ticket she bought was to Nevada and back last year, and any bus or cab rides were always inside the city."

"Continue," I say, intrigued.

"Then I run a facial recognition scan on any place that's inside the city limits that has security cameras." McGee gestures to the huge TV screen that's rapidly scrolling through video frames, trying to match Marie Jackson's face with one in the video. "That's what it's doing now."

"_Cool_," I breathe. "Can you teach me to do that?"

McGee runs me through the basics of setting up a finder scan, as he calls it. When we're done, he grins. "You learn fast, Bellatrix."

"Call me Bell, Bells, Bella, Trix, or Haswari," I list, ticking each option off on the fingers of my left hand with my right index finger.

Just then, Gibbs strides into the room, Agent DiNozzo and Aunt Ziva right behind him. "Got anything, Haswari, McGee?"

"No sir," I say. "Abby and I identified the blood on the handle of the knife as Marie Jackson's, and we're still running the fingerprint recognition for the partial print. We did find traces of that rubbing alcohol on the knife handle, and I have figured out that there is another knife that matches to the one that killed her, as the pattern cuts off abruptly on the edge."

He nods in my direction. "Keep working with that knife, then. It's the only lead we have- unless you found something, McGee?"

"No, boss," McGee says sorrowfully. "Fiscal credits turned up nothing unusual- a few clubs, restaurants. She hasn't been in a relationship since May of last year, according to her Facebook, and any relatives died a long time ago, including her father and brother. The finder scan's still running. I did teach Bell how to set one up, though, and she learns very quickly."

Gibbs nods again in approval. "Well, that's something."

Just then, the TV screen bings. We all turn to look at it.

"What was Marie Jackson doing at Club Jasón?" Aunt Ziva wonders. It's blurry and small, but it's definitely Marie Jackson's face in the back of a strip club, clustered around a man with black hair and a cocky grin.

"That was one of the fiscal tabs," McGee says. "It was small, though- only entrance, nothing more. And only once."

"But it was the day before she died," Gibbs says. "At least it's a lead. Let's go."

Agent DiNozzo quickly grabs his coat from where he's laid it down on the desk, but Gibbs fixes him with a glare. "Not you. Ziva, McGee, come with me. DiNozzo, Haswari is shadowing you now. Teach her anything she wants to know. And no fighting."

"Or playing computer games!" Aunt Ziva calls over her shoulder as the trio steps into the elevator and the doors close between us.

**I tried not to do a really short chapter like I typically do. Hope it was enough!**


End file.
